Oh, my little Augustin

Oh, my little Augustin.)
Feeble lisp on my lips.
I wish you were born in August,
the same as my tiny miss.
We would have partied:
Great selebartion!
All aboard!
We are static.
Waved in a standard rose
in your house front garden.
With a cute stumpy fence
separating the random
from the still timeless space. )


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